The falls sparkled in the light of the gleaming sun. Her beams,
shining through the thin canopy of the young maples and dotting the rocky
ground with pale yellow speckles, warmed the wet shoulders of the two
swimmers.
A creek, running off of a nearby hill, found a wide ravine in the forest and decided to settle there, widening the gorge and creating a comfortable bowl in the ground. All of this resulted in a hidden pool in the forest, wide and deep enough for lovers to find and share settlement with the rambling creek.
Hundreds of years old, though untouched by the destructive hands of time, the pool had become the secret pride of Minis Tirith. From this secret, stories and legends arose to stir the minds of children in the town. The young and in love found solitude in the maple borders where the aged mothers saw corruption and sin, ever denying their own countless visits to the sacred Lover's Pool.
Nevertheless, the two swimmers, naked of all of the cares of the world, at least for the moment, basked in the cool waters of the secluded pool. Duradir and his heaven-sent love Solareth paddled to the shore and sat together under the tallest tree, the light falling in blotches on their fair elven faces.
As a prince and representative of Mirkwood, Duradir was in no position to separate himself from the rest of his group. While traveling through the kingdom of Gondor, however, Duradir and Solareth, being but young elves, grew distracted and weary of the drab terrain and explored on their own a narrow, winding forest path. The path lead nowhere else but to the Lover's Pool.
"Minis Tirith is near here," Solareth observed. "Soon, riders will be sent from the city to find us."
"I suppose they will," replied a confident Duradir. "Let them find us."
The Great Council could wait; Duradir had not the care for its purpose, whatever it may have been.
As was foretold, the horn of Gondor sounded through the air.
"We ought to dry off," said the elf maiden.
"Why," asked Duradir, "Is it not polite for two elves to be damp in the presence of the folk of Gondor? I shall remain wet."
"It is neither polite or proper," Solareth laughed. She removed a blanket from her pack and began drying herself off with it as a rider entered the clearing.
"Duradir, I presume," the man said, "Do I find you in good or ill?"
"Good or ill is a very vague question, dear rider," said the elven prince. "That my health is ill would be a lie, but my spirits are neither good or ill at this meeting."
The man, looking at Solareth, began to chuckle.
"I see," he said. "My name is Beran, son of Byron. We shall ride together to the king's court."
"So, Beran son of Byron," said Duradir, "When shall we depart?"
"Well," said Beran, puzzled, "Now would be as good a time as any."
"Then, we shall leave now," Solareth, answered for the prince. She would not tolerate a long debate, as was Duradir's wont.
Duradir whistled and, out of the woods two white horses appeared. The elves mounted and the three riders rode off under Beran's direction.
On the third hour past midday, Beran, Duradir and Solareth arrived in the city of Minis Tirith.
"Elf prince," the king addressed him. "You have decided to attend this meeting after all."
Solareth and Beran bowed before Aragorn, now King Elessar. Duradir arrogantly performed a half bow. Elessar raised an eyebrow at the young elf. If the king had noticed this display, he left it uncorrected. Duradir was, after all, quite a young elf.
"I come only to represent my occupied father," said the elf. "May you see to it that this council is brief."
"I see," said the king.
Duradir and Solareth were both ignorant of the purpose this meeting was to serve, and, not knowing its severity, their thoughts were on returning home in a few short weeks.
"Who else is present?" Solareth inquired.
"Come with me and your question shall be provided with an answer," the king made a gesture to follow him into the next room.
In the center of this room was positioned a long table. Seated at the table were the queen Arwen, Legolas (Duradir's older brother), Gimli son of Gloin, Beregond of the guard, Faramir of Ithilien, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took of the Shire, Eomer son of Eomund and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.
While Solareth remained in the main hall with the remainder of her company, Duradir took his seat at the table beside Eomer of Rohan and Meriadoc Brandybuck. The king also took his seat at the head of the table, his queen on his right side.
Elessar began, "As most of you are probably aware, the corsairs of Umbar have become pirates, haunting our waters. We have no other choice but to do battle with them.
"I have brought with me large troops from Rohan," stated Eomer. "Together with your own troops, we could create a fleet large enough to vanquish the pirates and banish them from our waters."
"And we can provide great sea vessels," Prince Imrahil said. "Send the troops to Dol Amroth to man the ships, from there, an attack would be easy."
"How many ships are presently in your fleet," King Elessar queried.
"Over 200," replied Prince Imrahil.
"That should suffice," the king said, almost to himself, "but we may need more."
"The shipbuilders are at work as we speak," said Imrahil.
*** * *** The council continued past sundown, and outside, Solareth grew bored. While sitting in a chair in the great entrance hall, she was tapped on the shoulder.
"This meeting will run long into the night," said the woman tapping.
Solareth turned and discovered the mystery woman to be Princess Eowyn of Ithilien.
"I suppose nobody showed you to your chamber," Eowyn said.
"No," replied Solareth. "I've been here since the council began."
"Come with me," Eowyn told her reassuringly. "We shall find a place for a lonely elf lady."
Eowyn and Solareth went up a number of stairs ending at a long hallway lined with doors.
"There is an empty room next to mine, I do not think anyone would mind if you occupied it."
"Thank you," Solareth said humbly.
Eowyn began walking back to the entrance hall after showing Solareth the door to her chamber. Solareth stopped her.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To see if they are nearly finished at the council," Eowyn replied.
"Do you know what it is about?" asked the elf.
"Battle is to be done against the corsairs of Umbar," Eowyn answered flatly. "They have turned to piracy."
*** * *** The council had come to their final agreements and the visitors found soft, warm beds in the king's palace.
Evening passed into night, which passed into morning, and the weak beams of the early sun rested delicately on Solareth's cheek. As she slept soundly on her pillow, oblivious to the present doings of the world, Duradir stood in her doorway, watching silently as his lover dreamed. So peaceful was the sight of the fair young elf maiden that Duradir could not bear to disturb her.
A servant of the king walked stiffly down the hall toward Duradir. The elf did not notice her footsteps as he was far too distracted by the pure beauty of the sleeping Solareth. The servant cleared her throat as she approached the prince.
"King Elessar summons thee to breakfast, sir," spoke a short, sturdy woman of deeply creased visage, her gentle eyes looking over the tall elf.
"Yes, yes," he replied, "Tell him he may need to wait awhile, as neither I or my companion is ready."
"Yes, sir," she said and left.
The task of waking the sleeping elf had come upon Duradir. He reluctantly crossed the room, laying his light feet gingerly on the ground with each step, so as not to startle Solareth out of her dreaming state. Upon making it to her bedside, Duradir drew his head close to the one rested upon the pillow and whispered in her ear.
"'Quel amrun (Good morning)," said the soft voice of Duradir.
Solareth stirred and looked up at the intruder to her dreams, letting her pale eyelids slide apart slowly revealing her bright blue eyes dancing on either side of her straight nose. Her mouth was positioned in an annoyed flat line, then, upon the realization that the intruder was in fact Duradir, her pink lips curled up to form a glorious smile.
She rose to her feet and stood before Duradir proudly.
"We have been summoned to breakfast by the great king of Gondor," said the latter jokingly.
"If you would leave me to ready myself," the former replied, also in a joking manner, "We would not keep him waiting."
Duradir nodded his head and departed from the room. He occupied the next ten minutes wandering about the halls of the palace, and then he took his seat next to Solareth at the table from the night before.
"Legolas," Duradir said in a surprised tone, "I find it quite odd to see you seated beside a dwarf."
Gimli rose from his seat, having taken great offense to the remark. Legolas put his hand on the shoulder of the dwarf in an effort to hold him back.
"I find it quite odd that you," Legolas gave him a harsh look, "should be so interested in the seating arrangement, especially since this particular aspect of it does not affect you."
Gimli regained his composure and his seat, looking toward the door leading to the kitchen.
Before an annoyed Duradir could reply, several servants brought forth immense platters of foods suitable for a table of kings.
"Stop your bickering," Pippin commanded. "I'm trying to eat!"
Conversation at the long table ceased, the eyes of the noble folk of Middle Earth focused on the hobbit.
"You shouldn't have said that, Pip," Merry whispered.
"That is --," the halfling added, realizing his error, "er."
Elessar began to chuckle, sending the entire company into a torrent of laughter. Pippin smiled and continued eating his breakfast.
Eventually, the laughter died down, and it was at this time when Elessar spoke.
"I trust that you all know your duties," he said. "I also trust that you are all aware of the severity of events to come."
Elessar looked toward Duradir who was currently occupied by playfully whispering in Solareth's ear. The king cleared his throat, and, finding no satisfaction, returned to his plate.
"Duradir," Legolas spoke loudly. "Do you not have a reply for the king's personal address?"
Duradir became serious.
"If I had known the king had made a personal address," the young elf said, eyeing his brother, "I would have made a reply."
Pippin shook his head and looked at King Elessar whose face was twisting, as if it were holding back a smile.
"We depart for Dol Amroth tomorrow," said the king clearly, "before the break of dawn."
*** * ***
Solareth and Duradir spent the remainder of the day walking about the gardens of Minis Tirith (provided by Legolas). Surrounded by flourishing green plants, trees and flowers of all kinds, the two elves felt quite at home in the growing environment.
"Are you going to Dol Amroth tomorrow?" Solareth asked. She was beginning to lose her naivety, taking into account for the first time that the world in which she spent her days was not as perfect as she once believed.
"Yes," Duradir responded. He looked to the fair face of the female elf standing before him, and, noticing the change in it, he added, "Do not worry. This task should prove to be an easy one."
Solareth's head nodded but her eyes blazed in disagreement.
"Compared to the conquest of Sauron," continued Duradir, "defeating the mere corsairs of Umbar is as effortless as fooling a human."
"You should not underestimate this," Solareth told him quite in earnest. "King Elessar specifically stated this morning that this battle is to be serious and is not to be taken lightly."
"King Elessar said!" Duradir scoffed. "What authority does King Elessar have over me?"
"For one thing, King Elessar is the ruler of the lands upon which your feet currently stand," Legolas said as he stepped out from behind the two elves.
"Why, Legolas," Duradir said in a disrespectful tone. "You sneak around so like to a snake, I am having difficulty finding the difference between the two!"
"Sneaking, I was not," Legolas said angrily. "I was sent to find you, as none of the servants could do so successfully. Perhaps you should rethink who you compare to a snake!"
Duradir's words failed him, as he stood humiliated on the garden path.
"A word of caution, Duradir," the older elf added, "You should not waste your harsh words on your allies when the enemy is yet unvanquished. Come hither, we must ready for the battle ahead."
Legolas walked away as quietly as he came, followed soon after by Duradir.
*** * ***
The sky was clear the next morning when the troops of Eomer, Faramir and Elessar rode out of Minis Tirith. A few stars still dotted the early morning sky when Duradir bade his love farewell and became conscious of the fact that there may never be a future meeting.
The company rode almost nonstop for two days until reaching Tirith Aear (The Seaward Tower) in Dol Amroth. Duradir felt a strange urge gnawing at the back of his brain growing stronger every moment the elf came nearer to the sea. That feeling, however, was pushed aside by the more pressing matter of impending battle.
The troops were allowed a single night's rest before they were to don their armor and man their large, but incredibly quick vessels.
Before the earliest whisper of the rising sun appeared on the horizon to the east, a horn was blown, summoning all soldiers to their stations. Duradir, not having any battle experience, decided to stick close behind Legolas, but not so close that anyone else would take notice.
The salty sea winds tore at the rising sails of the ships, bearing the White Tree of Gondor and stung Duradir's eyes as he stood on the deck beside Bergil, son of Beregond (having aged just enough to go to battle, Bergil jumped on the chance for glory).
Duradir remembered how he ended up on the deck in the first place.
"We need rowers and rudder men," Prince Faramir of Ithilien said. "You, Duradir, go man the rudder!"
"The rudder?" a deeply offended Duradir remarked. "I, sir, am an elf. I am far too valuable as a warrior to be cooped up in the rudder. Send one of your own men in my place!"
This was the last straw. Elessar, hearing the conversation, turned and stood before the young elf in his fury.
"Not one person," the king boomed, "may he be man or elf, is so privileged that he may shirk the responsibilities given to him. You who know not the ways of sea faring or those of battle are more than qualified for the position of rudder man. Away with you, I have not the time to spare for this idle chatter, there is battle to be done!"
Duradir was making his way through the crowds of men toward the steerage area of the ship when he spotted a young human walking up to the deck.
"You, there!" Duradir shouted at him. "Young one!"
The boy turned.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"Go man the rudder," Duradir commanded, "I shall take your place on deck."
"Yes, sir," the boy replied, almost with an intonation of joy.
That was how I got myself into this mess, thought Duradir as his fear began to rise with the eastern sun.
Just then, the horn of Gondor sounded in the salty morning air, followed by the command by King Elessar for the ships to depart. The cables that bound the ships to their docks were released and the massive anchors were raised. The gate from the harbor to the Bay of Bellfalas was opened and the tall ships glided into the open water, their oars slapping gently slapped against the seawater, while the combined troops of Ithilien and Dol Amroth remained on shore to defend Tirith Aear.
On several of the ships were positioned great numbers of sea elves, each armed with bows and large quivers of arrows.
Duradir looked about to the faces sharing the deck with him. Most of them were men from Minis Tirith, but the young elf also spotted Gimli and Legolas near the bow.
"On the horizon!" a voice sounded from the crow's nest. "The corsairs of Umbar come out of the South West!"
"Rowers, quicken your pace. Rudder men! Turn to port!"
"Raise your bows!"
The sailors raised their bows calmly and in unison, as a fleet of ships grew visible ahead. The enemy crept ever closer while Beregond shouted orders to the crew.
"On my mark!"
The sailors readied their weapons. The ships were so near that Duradir could see nearly every feature of the pirates' faces.
"FIRE!"
At that instant, arrows flew through the air and came down like rain on the enemy ships. In return, the corsairs shot fire arrows.
"Turn to starboard!"
The enemy ships drew in on them until the hulls of the ships rubbed against eachother. While firing arrows frantically, Duradir was pounced upon by a boarding pirate. The sailor drew his dented blade to the neck of the pinned elf. Just as the cold metal placed a thin cut in the fair skin, an arrow through his thick skull struck down the pirate. Grunting, the pirate struggled to raise himself, was pushed from the deck by a boot-clad foot.
Duradir looked to the face of his savior and in seeing him to be none other than the face of Bergil son of Beregond, he was taken by surprise. Before the elf could properly thank the young man, he was again assailed by a boarding pirate. This time, Duradir drew his shining blade, Belegar (the Mighty One).
"Caile ie'lle! (Have at thee!)" He cried as he matched swords with the warrior of Umbar. Duradir thrusted his blade at his foe, and, the enemy, being a far better sword player, blocked each attack.
Clang, Belegar was thrown to the ground. The elf ran toward the mast of the ship, followed closely by his attacker. While running, Duradir pulled a dagger from its sheath at his side. Duradir jumped onto the rigging and held his blade toward his foe.
The pirate fell before the elf, having been hit by one of Bergil's arrows.
"Sir elf!" Bergil call s he dropped his bow and jabbed his light sword into another pirate. "I seem to be spending more time defending you than defending the kingdom of Gondor!"
"Then," said the annoyed elf, regaining his sword, "do not defend me at all!"
Bergil returned his attention to the battle at hand, fighting bravely. Duradir, on the other hand, moved to the stern of the vessel where the least of the action was taking place.
*** * ***
"How long are the troops expected to be away?" Solareth asked.
"There is no way of knowing," Eowyn replied. "Never before have we faced this foe in such a fashion."
"What are we to do sitting safely here in this castle while our kin are being slaughtered by the enemy?"
"Wait," Eowyn said calmly. "We must wait for there return, and we must watch over things here while they are away."
Eowyn continued eating her lunch, but Solareth, who was too distracted to eat, sat quietly across the table from her. The elf-maiden's thoughts drifted through memories of the past few events, all of which happened so quickly, but seemed eternities apart. She knew all too well that her carefree youth was spent, opening up the cold doors of maturity. Through these doors reluctantly stepped Solareth, but she left her foot in it with her childish longing for Duradir.
"Do you miss him?" Solareth asked.
"Who?" Eowyn said in a distracted tone. "Faramir?"
"Yes."
"Of course, but he is, after all, the prince of Ithilien, and this is his duty."
"Do you doubt his return?"
"Yes," Eowyn said, "but it does not do to dwell on doubt. What is meant to come to pass will."
"I see," Solareth's curiosity was not satisfied.
"Duradir is under good protection," the princess added after a pause, noticing Solareth's expression of discontent. "He will return to you."
"Protection?" the elf looked up from her soup.
"The eyes of Ithilien and Rohan watch over the young one," she said. "They will do all they can to protect him, as he is one of their kin now, and neither in Rohan nor Gondor do we forsake our kin."
Solareth doubted the friendship between Duradir and the soldiers. She could not comprehend why the others, who had been so disrespected by Duradir, would risk their own lives to save his.
The elf sighed, remembering her lover's arrogant nature. There was some good in him, though. Some good was present in Duradir's heart that only Solareth could see.
"For you, my lady," said Duradir one peaceful day at home. "The sharpest knife in the kingdom of Thranduil."
"What use have I for such a weapon?" Solareth queried.
"Use it to remove my heart if it ever should fail you."
*** * ***
The battle persisted into dusk until the corsairs of Umbar finally made their retreat. The fleets of Gondor, Rohan and the elves returned to the port of Dol Amroth in victory.
"You fought bravely today," Duradir said to Bergil. "I am eternally grateful to you."
"No thanks are necessary, sir elf," Bergil replied. "We need as many as we can get to fight this battle, my father said. Plus, I like you."
"Really?" Duradir raised an eyebrow to the young human.
"Yes," said Bergil. "I don't know why, but I do."
Duradir laughed, though he had been humbled by this comment. Slowly, Duradir began to realize that he was not the most important being in Middle Earth.
*** * ***
Two further battles ensued and left Gondor victorious. The friendship between Bergil and Duradir grew and carried them safely through the action on the sea.
Upon the troops' return to Minis Tirith, a great feast was held in celebration. All of the subjects of the king were invited, as well as the heroes of Rohan. The atmosphere was joyous across all of the land, but nowhere was so merry as in the dining hall of King Elessar. Only three empty seats remained, those of Duradir, Solareth and Legolas of Mirkwood.
"We should be at the feast," Solareth advised.
"I rather like it out here," said Duradir, admiring the vast gardens about the tower. "Let us stay a bit longer."
"It is nice," said Solareth uneasily, "but I don't believe this is the proper time to enjoy the outside when all of the merriment is taking place in the interior."
"Once again," said Legolas, stepping out from behind the two elves, "I find you here. Come with me to the feast of the king, you are late enough already."
"I will come," said Duradir looking devilishly at his brother, "but only because you came to find me."
Legolas and Duradir shared a laugh and started in to the feast, followed by Solareth.
"So the princes of Mirkwood have decided to make an appearance at this banquet!" said Elessar.
Legolas and Solareth bowed before the king, as did Duradir, and then they sat down. Duradir was seated between Solareth and Peregrin Took.
Pippin looked angrily at the elf beside him and, after a pause, said, "There is something I have been meaning to say to you. Now that you are finally here, I would just like to ask you one thing."
"Yes," replied Duradir. "What is it?"
"Could you hand me the cranberry jelly? I've been trying for it all night and it is just that bit out of my reach."
Merry shook his head.
"Some things never change," he said quietly to himself.
*** * ***
Duradir and Solareth remained in Gondor for seven days, and then decided to make their departure.
"I thank you, King Elessar, for your hospitality," Duradir said. "If I have your permission, I plan to visit your great kingdom again."
"Permission granted," said the king with a smile, "and may your next visit be under more pleasant circumstances."
Duradir and Solareth mounted their horses.
"Before you go," Elessar added, "I believe a young man called Bergil has a few words for you."
Bergil ran toward them.
"I just wanted to wish you farewell, sir elf," he said.
"This isn't our last goodbye, Bergil," said Duradir. "I expect to see you many times hereafter. The friendship of an elf does not run so short.
"So I see," said Bergil.
"May you also know that you are always welcome in the lands of Mirkwood," Duradir said.
"Thank you, sir elf," Bergil nodded, "but I would have come whether welcome had been given or not! The friendship of a man of Gondor does not run so short."
The two laughed, and then the elves rode away from the city northward to Mirkwood.
A creek, running off of a nearby hill, found a wide ravine in the forest and decided to settle there, widening the gorge and creating a comfortable bowl in the ground. All of this resulted in a hidden pool in the forest, wide and deep enough for lovers to find and share settlement with the rambling creek.
Hundreds of years old, though untouched by the destructive hands of time, the pool had become the secret pride of Minis Tirith. From this secret, stories and legends arose to stir the minds of children in the town. The young and in love found solitude in the maple borders where the aged mothers saw corruption and sin, ever denying their own countless visits to the sacred Lover's Pool.
Nevertheless, the two swimmers, naked of all of the cares of the world, at least for the moment, basked in the cool waters of the secluded pool. Duradir and his heaven-sent love Solareth paddled to the shore and sat together under the tallest tree, the light falling in blotches on their fair elven faces.
As a prince and representative of Mirkwood, Duradir was in no position to separate himself from the rest of his group. While traveling through the kingdom of Gondor, however, Duradir and Solareth, being but young elves, grew distracted and weary of the drab terrain and explored on their own a narrow, winding forest path. The path lead nowhere else but to the Lover's Pool.
"Minis Tirith is near here," Solareth observed. "Soon, riders will be sent from the city to find us."
"I suppose they will," replied a confident Duradir. "Let them find us."
The Great Council could wait; Duradir had not the care for its purpose, whatever it may have been.
As was foretold, the horn of Gondor sounded through the air.
"We ought to dry off," said the elf maiden.
"Why," asked Duradir, "Is it not polite for two elves to be damp in the presence of the folk of Gondor? I shall remain wet."
"It is neither polite or proper," Solareth laughed. She removed a blanket from her pack and began drying herself off with it as a rider entered the clearing.
"Duradir, I presume," the man said, "Do I find you in good or ill?"
"Good or ill is a very vague question, dear rider," said the elven prince. "That my health is ill would be a lie, but my spirits are neither good or ill at this meeting."
The man, looking at Solareth, began to chuckle.
"I see," he said. "My name is Beran, son of Byron. We shall ride together to the king's court."
"So, Beran son of Byron," said Duradir, "When shall we depart?"
"Well," said Beran, puzzled, "Now would be as good a time as any."
"Then, we shall leave now," Solareth, answered for the prince. She would not tolerate a long debate, as was Duradir's wont.
Duradir whistled and, out of the woods two white horses appeared. The elves mounted and the three riders rode off under Beran's direction.
On the third hour past midday, Beran, Duradir and Solareth arrived in the city of Minis Tirith.
"Elf prince," the king addressed him. "You have decided to attend this meeting after all."
Solareth and Beran bowed before Aragorn, now King Elessar. Duradir arrogantly performed a half bow. Elessar raised an eyebrow at the young elf. If the king had noticed this display, he left it uncorrected. Duradir was, after all, quite a young elf.
"I come only to represent my occupied father," said the elf. "May you see to it that this council is brief."
"I see," said the king.
Duradir and Solareth were both ignorant of the purpose this meeting was to serve, and, not knowing its severity, their thoughts were on returning home in a few short weeks.
"Who else is present?" Solareth inquired.
"Come with me and your question shall be provided with an answer," the king made a gesture to follow him into the next room.
In the center of this room was positioned a long table. Seated at the table were the queen Arwen, Legolas (Duradir's older brother), Gimli son of Gloin, Beregond of the guard, Faramir of Ithilien, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took of the Shire, Eomer son of Eomund and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.
While Solareth remained in the main hall with the remainder of her company, Duradir took his seat at the table beside Eomer of Rohan and Meriadoc Brandybuck. The king also took his seat at the head of the table, his queen on his right side.
Elessar began, "As most of you are probably aware, the corsairs of Umbar have become pirates, haunting our waters. We have no other choice but to do battle with them.
"I have brought with me large troops from Rohan," stated Eomer. "Together with your own troops, we could create a fleet large enough to vanquish the pirates and banish them from our waters."
"And we can provide great sea vessels," Prince Imrahil said. "Send the troops to Dol Amroth to man the ships, from there, an attack would be easy."
"How many ships are presently in your fleet," King Elessar queried.
"Over 200," replied Prince Imrahil.
"That should suffice," the king said, almost to himself, "but we may need more."
"The shipbuilders are at work as we speak," said Imrahil.
*** * *** The council continued past sundown, and outside, Solareth grew bored. While sitting in a chair in the great entrance hall, she was tapped on the shoulder.
"This meeting will run long into the night," said the woman tapping.
Solareth turned and discovered the mystery woman to be Princess Eowyn of Ithilien.
"I suppose nobody showed you to your chamber," Eowyn said.
"No," replied Solareth. "I've been here since the council began."
"Come with me," Eowyn told her reassuringly. "We shall find a place for a lonely elf lady."
Eowyn and Solareth went up a number of stairs ending at a long hallway lined with doors.
"There is an empty room next to mine, I do not think anyone would mind if you occupied it."
"Thank you," Solareth said humbly.
Eowyn began walking back to the entrance hall after showing Solareth the door to her chamber. Solareth stopped her.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To see if they are nearly finished at the council," Eowyn replied.
"Do you know what it is about?" asked the elf.
"Battle is to be done against the corsairs of Umbar," Eowyn answered flatly. "They have turned to piracy."
*** * *** The council had come to their final agreements and the visitors found soft, warm beds in the king's palace.
Evening passed into night, which passed into morning, and the weak beams of the early sun rested delicately on Solareth's cheek. As she slept soundly on her pillow, oblivious to the present doings of the world, Duradir stood in her doorway, watching silently as his lover dreamed. So peaceful was the sight of the fair young elf maiden that Duradir could not bear to disturb her.
A servant of the king walked stiffly down the hall toward Duradir. The elf did not notice her footsteps as he was far too distracted by the pure beauty of the sleeping Solareth. The servant cleared her throat as she approached the prince.
"King Elessar summons thee to breakfast, sir," spoke a short, sturdy woman of deeply creased visage, her gentle eyes looking over the tall elf.
"Yes, yes," he replied, "Tell him he may need to wait awhile, as neither I or my companion is ready."
"Yes, sir," she said and left.
The task of waking the sleeping elf had come upon Duradir. He reluctantly crossed the room, laying his light feet gingerly on the ground with each step, so as not to startle Solareth out of her dreaming state. Upon making it to her bedside, Duradir drew his head close to the one rested upon the pillow and whispered in her ear.
"'Quel amrun (Good morning)," said the soft voice of Duradir.
Solareth stirred and looked up at the intruder to her dreams, letting her pale eyelids slide apart slowly revealing her bright blue eyes dancing on either side of her straight nose. Her mouth was positioned in an annoyed flat line, then, upon the realization that the intruder was in fact Duradir, her pink lips curled up to form a glorious smile.
She rose to her feet and stood before Duradir proudly.
"We have been summoned to breakfast by the great king of Gondor," said the latter jokingly.
"If you would leave me to ready myself," the former replied, also in a joking manner, "We would not keep him waiting."
Duradir nodded his head and departed from the room. He occupied the next ten minutes wandering about the halls of the palace, and then he took his seat next to Solareth at the table from the night before.
"Legolas," Duradir said in a surprised tone, "I find it quite odd to see you seated beside a dwarf."
Gimli rose from his seat, having taken great offense to the remark. Legolas put his hand on the shoulder of the dwarf in an effort to hold him back.
"I find it quite odd that you," Legolas gave him a harsh look, "should be so interested in the seating arrangement, especially since this particular aspect of it does not affect you."
Gimli regained his composure and his seat, looking toward the door leading to the kitchen.
Before an annoyed Duradir could reply, several servants brought forth immense platters of foods suitable for a table of kings.
"Stop your bickering," Pippin commanded. "I'm trying to eat!"
Conversation at the long table ceased, the eyes of the noble folk of Middle Earth focused on the hobbit.
"You shouldn't have said that, Pip," Merry whispered.
"That is --," the halfling added, realizing his error, "er."
Elessar began to chuckle, sending the entire company into a torrent of laughter. Pippin smiled and continued eating his breakfast.
Eventually, the laughter died down, and it was at this time when Elessar spoke.
"I trust that you all know your duties," he said. "I also trust that you are all aware of the severity of events to come."
Elessar looked toward Duradir who was currently occupied by playfully whispering in Solareth's ear. The king cleared his throat, and, finding no satisfaction, returned to his plate.
"Duradir," Legolas spoke loudly. "Do you not have a reply for the king's personal address?"
Duradir became serious.
"If I had known the king had made a personal address," the young elf said, eyeing his brother, "I would have made a reply."
Pippin shook his head and looked at King Elessar whose face was twisting, as if it were holding back a smile.
"We depart for Dol Amroth tomorrow," said the king clearly, "before the break of dawn."
*** * ***
Solareth and Duradir spent the remainder of the day walking about the gardens of Minis Tirith (provided by Legolas). Surrounded by flourishing green plants, trees and flowers of all kinds, the two elves felt quite at home in the growing environment.
"Are you going to Dol Amroth tomorrow?" Solareth asked. She was beginning to lose her naivety, taking into account for the first time that the world in which she spent her days was not as perfect as she once believed.
"Yes," Duradir responded. He looked to the fair face of the female elf standing before him, and, noticing the change in it, he added, "Do not worry. This task should prove to be an easy one."
Solareth's head nodded but her eyes blazed in disagreement.
"Compared to the conquest of Sauron," continued Duradir, "defeating the mere corsairs of Umbar is as effortless as fooling a human."
"You should not underestimate this," Solareth told him quite in earnest. "King Elessar specifically stated this morning that this battle is to be serious and is not to be taken lightly."
"King Elessar said!" Duradir scoffed. "What authority does King Elessar have over me?"
"For one thing, King Elessar is the ruler of the lands upon which your feet currently stand," Legolas said as he stepped out from behind the two elves.
"Why, Legolas," Duradir said in a disrespectful tone. "You sneak around so like to a snake, I am having difficulty finding the difference between the two!"
"Sneaking, I was not," Legolas said angrily. "I was sent to find you, as none of the servants could do so successfully. Perhaps you should rethink who you compare to a snake!"
Duradir's words failed him, as he stood humiliated on the garden path.
"A word of caution, Duradir," the older elf added, "You should not waste your harsh words on your allies when the enemy is yet unvanquished. Come hither, we must ready for the battle ahead."
Legolas walked away as quietly as he came, followed soon after by Duradir.
*** * ***
The sky was clear the next morning when the troops of Eomer, Faramir and Elessar rode out of Minis Tirith. A few stars still dotted the early morning sky when Duradir bade his love farewell and became conscious of the fact that there may never be a future meeting.
The company rode almost nonstop for two days until reaching Tirith Aear (The Seaward Tower) in Dol Amroth. Duradir felt a strange urge gnawing at the back of his brain growing stronger every moment the elf came nearer to the sea. That feeling, however, was pushed aside by the more pressing matter of impending battle.
The troops were allowed a single night's rest before they were to don their armor and man their large, but incredibly quick vessels.
Before the earliest whisper of the rising sun appeared on the horizon to the east, a horn was blown, summoning all soldiers to their stations. Duradir, not having any battle experience, decided to stick close behind Legolas, but not so close that anyone else would take notice.
The salty sea winds tore at the rising sails of the ships, bearing the White Tree of Gondor and stung Duradir's eyes as he stood on the deck beside Bergil, son of Beregond (having aged just enough to go to battle, Bergil jumped on the chance for glory).
Duradir remembered how he ended up on the deck in the first place.
"We need rowers and rudder men," Prince Faramir of Ithilien said. "You, Duradir, go man the rudder!"
"The rudder?" a deeply offended Duradir remarked. "I, sir, am an elf. I am far too valuable as a warrior to be cooped up in the rudder. Send one of your own men in my place!"
This was the last straw. Elessar, hearing the conversation, turned and stood before the young elf in his fury.
"Not one person," the king boomed, "may he be man or elf, is so privileged that he may shirk the responsibilities given to him. You who know not the ways of sea faring or those of battle are more than qualified for the position of rudder man. Away with you, I have not the time to spare for this idle chatter, there is battle to be done!"
Duradir was making his way through the crowds of men toward the steerage area of the ship when he spotted a young human walking up to the deck.
"You, there!" Duradir shouted at him. "Young one!"
The boy turned.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"Go man the rudder," Duradir commanded, "I shall take your place on deck."
"Yes, sir," the boy replied, almost with an intonation of joy.
That was how I got myself into this mess, thought Duradir as his fear began to rise with the eastern sun.
Just then, the horn of Gondor sounded in the salty morning air, followed by the command by King Elessar for the ships to depart. The cables that bound the ships to their docks were released and the massive anchors were raised. The gate from the harbor to the Bay of Bellfalas was opened and the tall ships glided into the open water, their oars slapping gently slapped against the seawater, while the combined troops of Ithilien and Dol Amroth remained on shore to defend Tirith Aear.
On several of the ships were positioned great numbers of sea elves, each armed with bows and large quivers of arrows.
Duradir looked about to the faces sharing the deck with him. Most of them were men from Minis Tirith, but the young elf also spotted Gimli and Legolas near the bow.
"On the horizon!" a voice sounded from the crow's nest. "The corsairs of Umbar come out of the South West!"
"Rowers, quicken your pace. Rudder men! Turn to port!"
"Raise your bows!"
The sailors raised their bows calmly and in unison, as a fleet of ships grew visible ahead. The enemy crept ever closer while Beregond shouted orders to the crew.
"On my mark!"
The sailors readied their weapons. The ships were so near that Duradir could see nearly every feature of the pirates' faces.
"FIRE!"
At that instant, arrows flew through the air and came down like rain on the enemy ships. In return, the corsairs shot fire arrows.
"Turn to starboard!"
The enemy ships drew in on them until the hulls of the ships rubbed against eachother. While firing arrows frantically, Duradir was pounced upon by a boarding pirate. The sailor drew his dented blade to the neck of the pinned elf. Just as the cold metal placed a thin cut in the fair skin, an arrow through his thick skull struck down the pirate. Grunting, the pirate struggled to raise himself, was pushed from the deck by a boot-clad foot.
Duradir looked to the face of his savior and in seeing him to be none other than the face of Bergil son of Beregond, he was taken by surprise. Before the elf could properly thank the young man, he was again assailed by a boarding pirate. This time, Duradir drew his shining blade, Belegar (the Mighty One).
"Caile ie'lle! (Have at thee!)" He cried as he matched swords with the warrior of Umbar. Duradir thrusted his blade at his foe, and, the enemy, being a far better sword player, blocked each attack.
Clang, Belegar was thrown to the ground. The elf ran toward the mast of the ship, followed closely by his attacker. While running, Duradir pulled a dagger from its sheath at his side. Duradir jumped onto the rigging and held his blade toward his foe.
The pirate fell before the elf, having been hit by one of Bergil's arrows.
"Sir elf!" Bergil call s he dropped his bow and jabbed his light sword into another pirate. "I seem to be spending more time defending you than defending the kingdom of Gondor!"
"Then," said the annoyed elf, regaining his sword, "do not defend me at all!"
Bergil returned his attention to the battle at hand, fighting bravely. Duradir, on the other hand, moved to the stern of the vessel where the least of the action was taking place.
*** * ***
"How long are the troops expected to be away?" Solareth asked.
"There is no way of knowing," Eowyn replied. "Never before have we faced this foe in such a fashion."
"What are we to do sitting safely here in this castle while our kin are being slaughtered by the enemy?"
"Wait," Eowyn said calmly. "We must wait for there return, and we must watch over things here while they are away."
Eowyn continued eating her lunch, but Solareth, who was too distracted to eat, sat quietly across the table from her. The elf-maiden's thoughts drifted through memories of the past few events, all of which happened so quickly, but seemed eternities apart. She knew all too well that her carefree youth was spent, opening up the cold doors of maturity. Through these doors reluctantly stepped Solareth, but she left her foot in it with her childish longing for Duradir.
"Do you miss him?" Solareth asked.
"Who?" Eowyn said in a distracted tone. "Faramir?"
"Yes."
"Of course, but he is, after all, the prince of Ithilien, and this is his duty."
"Do you doubt his return?"
"Yes," Eowyn said, "but it does not do to dwell on doubt. What is meant to come to pass will."
"I see," Solareth's curiosity was not satisfied.
"Duradir is under good protection," the princess added after a pause, noticing Solareth's expression of discontent. "He will return to you."
"Protection?" the elf looked up from her soup.
"The eyes of Ithilien and Rohan watch over the young one," she said. "They will do all they can to protect him, as he is one of their kin now, and neither in Rohan nor Gondor do we forsake our kin."
Solareth doubted the friendship between Duradir and the soldiers. She could not comprehend why the others, who had been so disrespected by Duradir, would risk their own lives to save his.
The elf sighed, remembering her lover's arrogant nature. There was some good in him, though. Some good was present in Duradir's heart that only Solareth could see.
"For you, my lady," said Duradir one peaceful day at home. "The sharpest knife in the kingdom of Thranduil."
"What use have I for such a weapon?" Solareth queried.
"Use it to remove my heart if it ever should fail you."
*** * ***
The battle persisted into dusk until the corsairs of Umbar finally made their retreat. The fleets of Gondor, Rohan and the elves returned to the port of Dol Amroth in victory.
"You fought bravely today," Duradir said to Bergil. "I am eternally grateful to you."
"No thanks are necessary, sir elf," Bergil replied. "We need as many as we can get to fight this battle, my father said. Plus, I like you."
"Really?" Duradir raised an eyebrow to the young human.
"Yes," said Bergil. "I don't know why, but I do."
Duradir laughed, though he had been humbled by this comment. Slowly, Duradir began to realize that he was not the most important being in Middle Earth.
*** * ***
Two further battles ensued and left Gondor victorious. The friendship between Bergil and Duradir grew and carried them safely through the action on the sea.
Upon the troops' return to Minis Tirith, a great feast was held in celebration. All of the subjects of the king were invited, as well as the heroes of Rohan. The atmosphere was joyous across all of the land, but nowhere was so merry as in the dining hall of King Elessar. Only three empty seats remained, those of Duradir, Solareth and Legolas of Mirkwood.
"We should be at the feast," Solareth advised.
"I rather like it out here," said Duradir, admiring the vast gardens about the tower. "Let us stay a bit longer."
"It is nice," said Solareth uneasily, "but I don't believe this is the proper time to enjoy the outside when all of the merriment is taking place in the interior."
"Once again," said Legolas, stepping out from behind the two elves, "I find you here. Come with me to the feast of the king, you are late enough already."
"I will come," said Duradir looking devilishly at his brother, "but only because you came to find me."
Legolas and Duradir shared a laugh and started in to the feast, followed by Solareth.
"So the princes of Mirkwood have decided to make an appearance at this banquet!" said Elessar.
Legolas and Solareth bowed before the king, as did Duradir, and then they sat down. Duradir was seated between Solareth and Peregrin Took.
Pippin looked angrily at the elf beside him and, after a pause, said, "There is something I have been meaning to say to you. Now that you are finally here, I would just like to ask you one thing."
"Yes," replied Duradir. "What is it?"
"Could you hand me the cranberry jelly? I've been trying for it all night and it is just that bit out of my reach."
Merry shook his head.
"Some things never change," he said quietly to himself.
*** * ***
Duradir and Solareth remained in Gondor for seven days, and then decided to make their departure.
"I thank you, King Elessar, for your hospitality," Duradir said. "If I have your permission, I plan to visit your great kingdom again."
"Permission granted," said the king with a smile, "and may your next visit be under more pleasant circumstances."
Duradir and Solareth mounted their horses.
"Before you go," Elessar added, "I believe a young man called Bergil has a few words for you."
Bergil ran toward them.
"I just wanted to wish you farewell, sir elf," he said.
"This isn't our last goodbye, Bergil," said Duradir. "I expect to see you many times hereafter. The friendship of an elf does not run so short.
"So I see," said Bergil.
"May you also know that you are always welcome in the lands of Mirkwood," Duradir said.
"Thank you, sir elf," Bergil nodded, "but I would have come whether welcome had been given or not! The friendship of a man of Gondor does not run so short."
The two laughed, and then the elves rode away from the city northward to Mirkwood.